


Fakakta

by elfblooded



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Mage Rights or Mage Fights, Modern Girl in Thedas, Self-Insert, fuck the chantry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2018-11-19 13:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11314317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfblooded/pseuds/elfblooded
Summary: BEING REWRITTEN AS "BROUGHT DOWN BY THEM"





	1. Demon Popsicles

Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,  
Listen to the DON'TS  
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS  
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S  
Listen to the NEVER HAVES  
Then listen close to me-  
Anything can happen, child,  
ANYTHING can be  
-Shel Silverstein

 

 

The worst thing, Lily thinks, is the cold.  
Sure, the swords pointed at her and the filth of the dungeon aren’t great either, but there’s a leeching, creeping cold that only comes with stone and is steadily crawling through her bones, causing her to shake. It’s almost a relief when the door swings open, distracting her from the chill.  
It is not a relief to have a woman barge up to her and snarl “Tell we why we shouldn’t kill you now.”

No, that part is unpleasant, but it does brighten Lily’s spirits, as she realizes this is a dream. After all, Cassandra Pentaghast is pacing in front of her, and she’s lucid. This dream, she muses, might turn out to be wonderful indeed –

Lily is jolted out of her thoughts by a gauntleted hand backhanding her across the cheek, and her head is flooded with thoughts of pain and sharp and oh. Crap. This might be real.

 

The worst thing, Lily thinks, is the staring.  
Actually, make that the glaring. Everyone is glaring at her, crowds of people coming out of tents to point and hiss and, a couple times, even spit at her. She doesn’t know how to deal with this; her anxiety is bad enough when one person looks at her, but a crowd out for blood? She doesn’t know what to do and they’re all looking at her and staring and glaring and she doesn’t know what to do what should she do-  
“Prisoner!”  
Snapping out of it, Lily looks and sees a glare on Cassandra’s face, mixed with – is that worry? Pity? One of the two.  
Oh, she thinks. I was hyperventilating.  
“Ugh,” Says Cassandra, and Lily can barely keep herself from laughing at the disgusted noise. Cassandra hauls her to her feet – and when did she fall down? – and starts to walk her quickly towards a stone bridge, out of sight from the bulk of the refugees. Lily makes a soft noise of thanks, and though Cassandra doesn’t look at her, the grip on her arms lessens slightly.

 

Oh my G-d, Lily thinks. It’s the murder knife.  
It is undoubtedly the Murder Knife with which Cassandra has cut her bonds; black blade, golden detailing, and red leather hilt, but so many questions explode into Lily’s mind at once that she doesn’t even notice her newly-freed hands. Why is this knife so popular? Is there one that has miraculously changed owners through the past ten years? Are these knives mass-produced in Thedas? Where did Cassandra get it? Can Lily get one? Can she –

“Prisoner!”  
Cassandra. Right. Questions about medieval knife-manufacturing will have to wait.

When the Breach expands, Lily braces herself for pain in her arm. Instead, however, she feels as though she’s been hit on her left funny bone. Hard. With a hammer. She clutches at her arm, the awful feeling spreading from her hand, and lets out an undignified shriek.  
“CRAP! Crap crap crap oh dear lord that feels awful,” She pauses to take a breath. “Is that going to happen every time? I really don’t want that to happen every time, crap.” Shaking her arm, Lily reaches her other up to Cassandra’s outstretched hand, and allows herself to be pulled to her feet.  
“The pulses are coming faster now,” Cassandra says, rather unnecessarily if you ask Lily. And no one did, but that’s an irrelevant detail. Especially now that she and Cassandra are coming upon the bridge, and her heart is pounding in her chest, because is she a rogue? She has to be a rogue, she isn’t strong enough to be a warrior and in all her fifteen years she’s never formed a fireball.  
Bracing herself, Lily crosses the bridge, and is still unprepared when the meteor slams into it.  
Falling off the bridge hurts, and Lily just knows that she’ll be black and blue in a few hours. Her mind is taken off the pain as Cassandra shouts.  
“Stay behind me!” The warrior draws her sword and runs at the shade that’s spawned from the ice, whirling as the blade catches upon its flesh and causes it to emit a shriek of pain. Lily is shaken out of her open-mouthed staring at the display of skill by a bubbling sound in front of her, and Right, need to look for a weapon now.  
Lily turns, fully expecting to see a bow and arrow, or even two daggers propped up on a crate behind her, but instead there is.  
A staff.  
A magic staff.  
A magic staff used by mages which she is not.  
Well, shit, Lily thinks, and grabs the thing anyway, hoping to use it as a club. When her hand wraps around the wood, however, it’s as if an electric current is sent through her body, and suddenly her hands feel like they contain too much, too much capability because what is magic if not energy, energy used to manipulate the air causing moisture to freeze or electrons to charge and oh crap the Shade is about to claw her face –  
No. Lily thinks, and slides out of the way, falling flat on the ice. As she hears the Shade advance, she imagines the water in the air all around them, little droplets of moisture, and Frozone from the incredibles – I thought you could draw from the water in the air! There is no water in the air! – and pictures it freezing.  
A clunk has her looking up, and gaping, as the shade poised to attack her is now solidly encased in ice, little wisps of steam curling up from its’ frozen form. A gasp has her looking up, and seeing Cassandra staring at her with – is that fear? What did she do, that she can scare a Seeker?


	2. Meeting the Gang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra considers the strange girl, who seems to be - is she skipping?
> 
> Lily meets Solas, Varric, and Bianca. It goes as well as you might expect.

The worst thing, Cassandra thinks, is how young the girl is.  
Cassandra is a seeker, and she has seen mages taken to Circles as children, crying out for their parents, begging to be allowed home. She has always been able to justify this, knowing that the mages will be safer in the Circle than their old homes. Yet this woman, this child is suspected of Justinia’s murder, and worse still, Cassandra suspects her as well.  
Cassandra had seen what the girl had done to the shade. She had not simply frozen it; the creature had been sealed in ice. The power required to do such a thing would be immense, and the girl had not even used a staff. The sheer force of will needed to achieve such a feat…could this girl, this child truly have opened the Breach? Cassandra swallowed past the lump in her throat, and forces herself to accept that yes, it is possible that she could have done such a thing.

 

Lily is trying not to freak out. She’s failing, of course, but it’s the effort that counts, right? Right.  
HOLY FLUFFNUGGETS SHE IS A MAGE WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUDGE.  
Like she said, she’s trying not to freak out. Not succeeding.  
She’s been trying to experiment with her magic as she and Cassandra make their way towards the nearest rift. It takes her mind off of how Cassandra is trying to subtly stare at her.  
Well, Lily thinks. At least I’m not the only one failing at something.  
She’s found that magic really just seems to be a tool, and if she focuses hard enough, she can use it to manipulate the air around her. It kind of reminds her of her CBT practice, with her therapist telling her to focus on one thing and hold it in her mind when she’s panicking. Lily just has to focus on what she wants her magic to achieve, and hold the specific results in her mind. She wants to set something on fire? Imagine the air around it lighting aflame and hold the sound of crackling flames, of heat on your face and the smell of burned wood in your head and oh, look, it’s on fire! Want to electrocute something? Imagine a shock of lighting striking it, picture a flashing sky and the crack of thunder and counting between strikes to see how far away a storm is, the smell of ozone and the feeling of air before it storms, and look up to see that shade writhing, covered in lightning. Lily feels like it's easier than it should be, especially because Cassandra keeps staring at her whenever she manages to freeze an enemy in their path.  
And the easiest thing is freezing. Lily’s always loved water, snow, and ice. She’s woken up on cold days and rushed to the window, seeing the sun sparkle off fresh snow and letting out giddy laughs. When she was ten, her family vacationed in Alaska and she got to do a Polar Bear Plunge, jumping into an ocean that would have been frozen were it not saltwater, an iceberg maybe twenty yards away. She had hit the water and gone under, and for a moment before her life jacket had pulled her up, the shock of cold had forced her eyes open and she had seen nothing but an endless blue. Then she broke the surface and started screaming from the cold, and laughing and barely breathing because she had felt so alive. Cold water has always been a treasure for her, and she just has to feel that cold, draw it from the snow around her, and force it towards a wraith up ahead for it to become a solid block of ice.

 

Cassandra considers the strange girl, who seems to be - is she skipping? Yes, the Prisoner is skipping, occasionally trailing gloved fingers across the snow. They are very near the rift now, and Cassandra is wondering if taking the Prisoner there is such a good idea. The Prisoner is barely more than a child, and yet she seems to have mastery over primal magic, the kind that takes years of dedicated focus and study to achieve. The many ice statues she has shattered on their way have blunted Cassandra’s blade, and it seems increasingly likely that this girl is far too powerful than she should be.  
Perhaps, when this is over and the Breach is sealed, Leliana will get answers out of the girl. For now, Cassandra has no choice but to trust her.  
It is not a choice that she appreciates having to make.

 

Lily can feel Cassandra glaring at the back of her head, but she doesn’t care. Nope, because suddenly Cassandra yells  
“We’re getting close, you can hear the fighting!”  
And Lily lets out a quiet, manic giggle and starts running up the stone stairs, bursting onto the scene where she knows she’ll meet Solas and Varric and she can use her knowledge of them to make a good first impression, so that they like her, and–  
There are dead soldiers on the ground. Demons, too, but soldiers, human people staring at the sky with glassy eyes, blood pooling from their heads and abdomens, and they were people and now they’re dead and Lily feels as though she’s been forcefully inserted back into reality. Almost all of the shades are dead, but Lily hefts her staff – it really is heavy – and knocks it over the head. The thing shrieks in pain and whirls to face her, but she’s ready, willing the heat of a blaze and the sparks from a summer bonfire into her hand and then pushing it at the creature, holding the flame steady until there is nothing but a pile of ash.  
There is a moment of silence, as if everyone around her is holding their breath, and then her favorite egg breaks it, grabbing her hand and shoving it towards the rift, shouting,  
“Quickly, before more come through!”  
And Lily remembers that the veil can grow thin, like a piece of fabric, and imagines her mark as a needle mending the rift, and there’s a crack like the fracturing of ice and the rift is sealed.  
Another beat of silence, and then –  
“Well, that’s something you don’t see everyday!”  
Varric Tethras is talking to her, and she’d be excited but the air is full of the smell of blood, and there are far too many corpses on the ground, and before he can say anything else Lily turns and vomits onto the ground.  
As she finishes coughing up, she hears Varric mutter,  
“Was it something I said?”  
So much for a good first impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Thank you so much to everyone who read the first chapter and left kudos! This is my first fanfiction, so I'm a little nervous, but I'll try to do the story justice. (Get it? Do it JUSTICE? Heh.)


	3. Bonding Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get to learn some personal details about Lily, i.e. me, as well as the reasoning behind my username. Also, corpses tend to provoke a negative reaction, and I use humor to avoid my horror at the concept of so many deaths.

Varric Tethras: The Guy Who Saw Some Weird Shit.  
It’s the working title for his autobiography, and he thinks it sums up his life pretty well. Watching a kid wipe vomit off her mouth with a glowing green hand could definitely make an entry. He’d probably leave out the part where she’d vomited upon seeing him.  
Turning to the elfy apostate next to him, he asks,  
“Was it something I said?” only to hear a loud gasp in reply.  
The kid had gotten up off the ground and was staring at him.  
“Varric Tethras?” Her voice sounded slightly hysterical, like she didn’t even believe she was seeing him, and Varric instantly got it.  
“Ah, so you’re a fan, then?” He puts on his best smirk for meeting readers, while surreptitiously shifting his weight in case he needed to run. “Always nice to meet a reader of my books.”  
The kid does an amusing little flail, waggling her arms and dropping her staff – a mage, then, he notes – before exclaiming,  
“No, you – you’re Varric Tethras!” She takes a deep breath then continues. “I mean, yes, you’re Varric Tethras, obviously you’d know that. And I’ve read your books! Hard in Hightown! Donnen Brenokovic is a brilliant character!”  
The Seeker cut her off, even though she was – was Cassandra blushing?  
“The two of you can discuss Varric’s…books, later.”  
Solas pipes in. “Indeed. Unless we seal the Breach quickly, no one is safe, regardless of their talent with scripture.” The elf turned to the girl and smiles at her. “I am Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you yet live.”  
Varric opens his mouth to interject, but the kid beat him to it.  
“I can see you have a staff,” she says, “Are you a mage as well?”

 

Lily has had many good ideas over the course of her life. She immediately realizes that trying to catch the attention of the Dread Wolf himself is not one of them. She can't help it, okay? He and Cole were her favorite Inquisition characters after Varric, and he technically belonged to Dragon Age II. Plus, she did find Solas' stories fascinating when playing through the game the first time, and his knowledge was impressive, and his voice was extremely attractive and no she is not letting her fangirl crush take over her interactions with him.  
(She is totally letting her fangirl crush take over her interactions with him.)  
Lily zones back in to hear Solas saying  
“…Indeed, it is hard to imagine any mage having such power.”  
Cassandra nods, with a bit of uncertainty, and replies with a curt “Understood.”  
“Well,” Varric says, “Bianca’s excited!”

 

The worst part, Lily thinks, are the bodies.  
They’re everywhere, so many that the scenery is practically littered with them and the formerly pristine snow has been stained crimson with blood. With ever one she passes, Lily has to force herself not to go down a tangent of "Who were they? Did they have a family? Friends? Hope for the future? That mage facedown with feathery pauldrons, was he emulating Anders? Was he overjoyed when the rebellion occurred, desperate for freedom and gleeful at the idea that he may achieve it - "  
Fudgebiscuits, Lily thinks. She did it again.

When they finally reach the Breach, and hey, that rhymed she thinks, Lily is ready to vomit again. She almost does at the sight of the charred, twisted bodies surrounding the ruins of the temple.  
“Prisoner?” Cassandra’s voice is slightly tentative, and Lily wonders why before realizing she’s crying. Raising her hand to her cheeks, she lowers it to find it wet. Lily walks over to the nearest, relatively intact body she sees without even realizing what she’s doing. She kneels down and closes the elven woman’s eyes. She was Dalish, given the tattoos dedicating her worship to Elgar’nan.  
“Dareth shiral, ma falon.” Lily whispers. “May your soul reside peacefully in the beyond.” Knowing what she does about the Evanuris, Lily cannot bring herself to bless the woman with Falon’din’s name. Hopefully, the woman would not have minded.  
“Curious, seeing a human speak of Elvhen customs.” Solas comes up behind her. “Where did you learn to speak the People’s tongue?” Lily can hear a curl of derision in his voice, and when she turns to speak with him, her voice is steady. She needs a story as to who she is, after all, and this scenario is ideal for introducing it. Lily is nothing if not opportunistic.  
“Our hahren taught us a few phrases in the alienage,” She says, and knows her face gives nothing away but grief and a bit of wistfulness. “And I am not a shemlen, Solas. I’m elfblooded.”  
The best lies are the ones with pieces of truth in them, and this one is no exception. Lily did learn bits of elven phrases from a hahren in an alienage, and that alienage was hers. Or, rather, her first Warden’s, Liliana Tabris. And City Elf culture is based on Jewish culture, so she feels she has the right to claim it as her own. As for being elfblooded, the concept of having all of the heritage of one people but looking like another is very familiar to her, what with her Christian father and Jewish mother. Lily is used to people exclaiming ”Really?” when they find out she’s Jewish, or staring at her average nose like it’s a calculation they’re trying to solve. Elfblooded fits her quite well.  
Solas stares at her for a moment, then nods. He turns away, and Lily rises from the Dalish woman’s corpse, and heads to seal the rift at the foot of the Breach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess my username makes more sense now, doesn't it?


	4. Waking Up (Wake me up inside)

As Lily wakes up, she hears a crashing noise, and wonders what her dog ran into this time. Smiling as she remembers her dream about Thedas – she’s such a nerd – she sits up.  
And freezes.  
And the elven woman at the foot of her bed falls onto the floor in a bow.  
“Forgive me, my Lady,” She begins. “I beg your forgiveness and – “  
Nope, Lily thinks, and rolls out of bed. The noise of her crashing onto the floor startles the servant, leaping upwards from her position on the ground.  
“My – my lady?” The woman asks, her eyes flicking back to the door like a skittish deer. Lily takes a quiet breath and reminds herself that this is just one person, and outside the door are going to be dozens of people, and if she can’t handle just one person how is she supposed to handle dozens of them oh G-d oh G-d what is she going to do –   
“My lady!” The elven woman is shaking her, and Lily stops hyperventilating and looks at her forehead to avoid making eye contact.  
“Goodness, my lady, are you alright?” The woman asks, and beneath the fear and awe Lily can detect true concern in her voice, and after a moment she calms down and speaks.  
“Please don’t call me that.” The woman looks surprised, and Lily clarifies. “My name is Lily. I’m an elfblooded girl who got stuck in the middle of Chantryfolk, I’m not any kind of lady.” The woman still looks hesitant, so Lily bites her lip and then bites the bullet.  
“What’s your name?”  
If anything, the woman looks even more startled now.  
“My – my name? I – it – it is Mina, my la- Lily.”  
Lily smiles at her.  
“Well, Mina, thank you for helping me calm down. It’s nice to meet you.”  
Mina returns the smile, then jolts as if she’s been shocked.  
“Oh! The Lady Seeker! She said for you to come find her in the Chantry once you’d awoken! At once, she said!” Mina gets up and makes to leave, but Lily catches her by the wrist.   
“Mina – thank you.” She says, and Mina looks surprised before flashing her a hesitant smile.

Before heading to the Chantry, Lily has to get dressed, and that opens an entirely new can of worms. All the clothes in the hut they’ve put her in are too big for a girl of fifteen, even a slightly-taller-than-average one (which she totally is, shut up.). Everything is covered in laces, and Lily almost weeps with joy when she sees a plain blouse. It’s too big on her, going down to her knees, so Lily wraps a belt around her center and pretends she’s wearing a dress. Thankfully, she was left in her underwear, so Lily doesn’t have to looking for a Theodosian take on a bra. Once she feels sufficiently, if not properly clothed, Lily opens the door to her hut, and

Well, shit, she thinks, as the whispering crowd goes silent as they see the so-called “Herald of Andraste” come out of her house in nothing but a shirt. Holding her head high, Lily walks through all of them, pretending that she can’t see them. It doesn’t work, and by the time she reaches the Chantry, Lily’s this close to panicking. Somehow, be it by the grace of Mythal, Lily makes it through the thick wooden doors, and then hears the sounds of muffled shouting.  
“She should be taken to Val Royeaux for trial immediately!”  
“I…I do not think that she is guilty.”  
“The girl failed, Seeker. The Breach – “  
“Is still a threat!”  
Chancellor Roderick and Cassandra Pentaghast both turn to look at the girl who dramatically flung open the door. Lily sighs happily.  
“I’ve always wanted to cut in like that. Sorry for the interruption.”  
Chancellor Roderick stares for a moment longer, then snaps out of his shock. Pointing to the two Templars standing guard at the door – and Lily shudders, because ugh, Templars – he barks  
“Chain her! I want her prepared for travel to Val Royeaux immediately.”  
“Disregard that,” Cassandra snaps, “And leave us.”  
The Templars – Ugh, Lily thinks again – salute and leave. She’s too busy trying not to be terrified of her first encounter with actual Templars – and they didn’t even look at her – to pay attention to the two Chantryfolk – no, three, and when did Leliana get here? - until Chancellor Roderick storms past her.  
Cassandra gives her spiel about wanting peace, and Leliana gives hers about how Lily will be “safer” with the Inquisition, and screw it. Until she wakes up, why not have some fun?  
“I agree to your terms.” Lily says, and shakes Cassandra’s outstretched hand.


	5. To the Hinterlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, there aren’t really any alternate forms of transport in Thedas, so Lily’s schlepping to the Hinterlands on the back of a horse.

The worst part, Lily thinks, are the horses.  
Well, not the horses exactly. When Lily saw her horse for the first time she immediately squealed and ran to pet it, murmuring softly to it and stroking its nose. The real worst part is the horseback riding. Sadly, there aren’t really any alternate forms of transport in Thedas, so Lily’s schlepping to the Hinterlands on the back of a horse. Her legs are killing her and she just knows that her butt is going to be sore later. Cassandra and Solas both ride with practiced ease, the former from her life as a noble, and the latter for the same reason, for all he tries to hide it. On the plus side, Varric looks just as uncomfortable, his feet dangling high off the ground even though he’s on the smallest horse Threnn could spare. Lily isn’t usually one to take pleasure in other people’s unhappiness, but right now she needs the guarantee that someone is feeling at least a little bit as unhappy as she is.  
See, Lily knows what will happen in the Hinterlands. She knows that she’ll need to talk to Mother Giselle, she knows that she’s going to have to build influence and first of all she knows that she’s going to have to kill apostates at the Crossroads. And Lily doesn’t want to kill apostates. She wants to wave a white flag at them and remind them that they’re free and protect them from the very Chantry Lily herself is having to serve. Except Lily won’t be able to do that, because the apostates will attack her first, and she’ll have to respond in self defense and Oh G-d she’s killed a few demons but she’s going to have to kill people. People. Real people with hopes and dreams and a first taste of freedom after being locked away in towers and wait, how long has Cassandra been trying to get her attention?

“Herald!” Cassandra says, sounding as if she’s been repeating herself for a while. “I am trying to tell you that we near our camp on the Outskirts. Can you not hear me?” Cassandra is irritated, and feels regretful for it immediately after snapping at the Herald, causing the young girl to jump and nearly fall off her horse. Cassandra takes a deep breath and purposefully gentles her voice before speaking again. “There will likely be fighting. Are you prepared?” The small, shaky nod she receives from the Herald does not do much to inspire confidence. Ugh.

Soon, they’re all dismounting from their horses, and Lily sees a dwarf who is heading towards them, and – holy fluffnuggets, is that Scout Harding?!  
“Herald of Andraste,” she starts, and Lily cringes at the title. “We’ve heard the stories. We know what you did at the Breach. You stopped it from spreading, didn’t you? We owe you one for that.” Flashing Lily a reassuring smile, she continues. “I’m Inquisition Scout Harding.”  
“Harding, huh?” Varric asks. “Ever been to Kirkwall’s Hightown?”  
Scout Harding looks at him, bewildered. “I can’t say that I have. Why?”  
“You’d be Harding in…oh, forget it.”  
“Ugh.” Says Cassandra, and Lily instantly knows that Scout Harding is someone she’s going to like in real life just as much as she had in the game.  
“Nice to meet you, Scout Harding.” She says. “Please, call me Lily. I’m really not the Herald of anything.” Harding nods – and yes, Lily knew she’d be awesome! – and simply proceeds to give a report on the state of the Hinterlands. Lily nods in thanks when she’s done, and together she, Cassandra, Varric and Solas head off to secure the Crossroads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a short li'l chapter to show you all the inside of Lily's head.  
> I haven't really used these notes, but I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has left comments and kudos. I was terrified that no one would like this story, and your feedback means the world to me.  
> Alright, my being mushy is over, onto the gladyspire! (That's not a word, I just made it up.)


	6. First Combat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’d say the fight is going well when a Templar raises his palm towards her, and Lily only has time to think “Fudgebiscuits” before the smite slams into her with the force of a hurricane.
> 
> Lily has her first taste of fighting people. It does not go well.

The worst part, Lily thinks, is how easy it all is.  
Upon seeing the first of the apostates, Cassandra lets out a war cry, raising her sword and charging forward. The warrior spins upon nearing the mage and her sword cleanly slices through his neck. Lily stops and stares, horrified, at the spray of blood and the sudden gleaming white of exposed vertebrae. She very nearly drops the staff she’s borrowed from Harritt when Solas shouts at her.  
“Quickly! Before they begin to attack you!” His statement is punctuated with a crackle as a bolt of lightning speeds past Lily’s head, and just like that, she is fighting.  
Lily turns to the mage who sent the lightning and thinks of the smell and sound of striking a match and builds a fireball in her palm, launching it at the apostate’s head. It hits him directly in the face, and he screams as he flails about, blinded. Lily raises her staff to attack again when the man is suddenly sprouting a bolt from his eye, blood spurting from the socket. Not pausing to look at Varric, Lily pivots and takes the vision of lightning far out over the ocean and sends a stream of electricity through her staff at the third mage, not letting up until his corpse lies on the ground, still twitching. Cassandra and Solas are making quick work of the fourth apostate, Solas freezing her in place and casting barriers around Cassandra, who practically dances in combat, completely in her element. Cassandra’s sword swings down towards the last mage, but the apostate has a barrier up and the metal slides off, leaving the mage staggered but unharmed. Lily hardly even thinks before gripping her staff – and how exactly does that work? Is it meant to make manifesting her will more simple? Less tedious? Perhaps that would be a concern for those mages spending their entire lives practicing spells in a tower, but Lily doubts she will ever find any kind of magic tedious – and sends a stream of cold at the mage’s feet, freezing her in place, and then as she struggles to free herself the barrier drops and Cassandra’s sword sinks directly into her heart.  
Lily might have let herself be horrified, but at that moment Solas shouts “Templars!” And there’s no time to breathe, much less think. There are more Templars, and they’re heavily armored, but that also makes them slow. Lily sends bolts of energy at them with her staff, just focusing on a feeling, hot or cold to determine whether or not she sends flames or frost. She’d say the fight is going well when a Templar raises his palm towards her, and Lily only has time to think “Fudgebiscuits” before the smite slams into her with the force of a hurricane.  
Lily finds herself on the ground, all the air knocked out of her lungs, remembering the time her family went to a parade in New Orleans. It wasn’t Mardi Gras, but it was big and loud and everyone around them was smoking either cigarettes or weed, and there was so much smoke that she had had an asthma attack so severe that Lily genuinely thought she might die. That’s a bit what this feels like, as she struggles to gasp for air that won’t fit in her lungs because they’re too tight. She can distantly register Varric firing Bianca at the Templar who is about to skewer her, but it’s all she can do to process it through her growing panic. Lily doesn’t have her inhaler with her; her lungs feel too tight, and it’s getting harder to draw air in. She’s so anxious she doesn’t even notice Solas sitting her up and placing his hand on her back – and oh, if he’d done that when she was more coherent; she hates being touched – and sending a wave of magic through her, opening her lungs again and letting her breathe. She gulps in air, putting her fingers on her neck to feel her pulse and finds it racing. She slows down her breathing, taking deep inhales of sweet air until her heartbeat calms down. She turns to Solas and nods.  
“Ma serannas, hahren.”  
He seems startled at her use of elven, but recovers quickly and nods back at her. Helping Lily to her feet, he looks at her in concern.  
“Was that the first time you have felt the power of a Templar, da’len?”  
“Yes, Solas.” She nods. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so…suffocating. Why did it take all of the air away?”  
If Lily had turned to look at him, she would have seen Solas’ eyes narrow, then go back to normal.   
“I do not know, da’len. Templar attacks usually push the mage back and drain them of mana, not air. You appear to be an…unusual exception. The effects were, in your case, far more adverse.”  
Lily wants to ask what he means by that, but Varric and Cassandra are rushing up to the two of them.  
“Herald! Are you all right?” She reaches out a hand and Lily takes it, gladly. “We saw you fall before that Templar. Are you unharmed?”  
Lily gives her a shaky smile.  
“I’m all right, Cassandra. Solas healed me. I just…have you ever heard of an illness that causes people to have trouble keeping their breath?” Cassandra looks confused, but Varric and Solas both nod.  
“Yeah, I knew a kid like that. Whenever he had to run his mouth would let out this wheezing noise. Always thought it would kill him, but he was tough.” Varric smiles at her with the last sentence, and she knows both she and that kid are seen as tough in Varric’s eyes.  
It helps her breathe easier, knowing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my bubelehs! Thank you so much for your comments and kudos's. Kudos'. Kudi? I'm not sure what the proper plural form is. However! You are all wonderful and your comments give me life. I hope you enjoy our asthmatic mentally ill heroine's adventures throughout her own literal hell! Yeah, it's gonna get rough.


	7. Breakdown #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s crying, and realizes it only when she can taste salt on her lips.
> 
> Lily's actions in the fight hit her suddenly.

The worst part, Lily thinks, is how grateful everyone is.  
She has to smile and nod at dozens of refugees who thank her for clearing out the ‘evil apostates’, as if the mages weren’t people as well. No one thanks her for defeating the Templars. Lily doubts these people would care to hear her impassioned defense of mages and why they were desperate enough to fight everyone who might have been perceived as a threat to their freedom, so she keeps her mouth closed and her lips pointed up and smiles and nods.  
And when the refugees comment on how they cannot believe how the Templars have been acting, that they’re usually so noble and valiant and that their order is a reputable one, Lily bites down on her tongue until she tastes blood so that she will not scream at them.

Oh, and Lily wants to scream. She has blood on her hands now, not just the blood of demons, which was horrible in itself – monstrous creatures, people whisper, while Lily sees tormented creatures pulled from their home – but the blood of mages, mages who are now her kin.

And while Lily feels no love for the Templars, she cannot help but think of orphans taken in by the Chantry, raised in the priesthood or the Order with no one asking them if they’d ever like to be anything else. And then Lily thinks of Alistair, born to a mage forced to give her baby up, raised on piles of hay until the cruel Arlessa couldn’t even allow him that, and shipped him off to a monastery where he may have ended up as one of the men who died at the end of her staff.

And now Lily has bile rising in her throat, and hatred running through her veins, because this war has one point of origin and it isn’t Anders. It’s the men and women in pink and white robes, smiling and chanting and giving blessings from their absent god, forcing their religion on others in the hopes that He will come back to them. These refugees are victims of the Chantry, even as they offer it praises, and Lily feels sick because she is part of the Inquisition now, even as it will go down in history as an arm of the Orlesian Chantry.

She realizes that she is furious only when she begins to shake, and it is not a tic. Lily turns abruptly, away from the nearest thankful face, and paces over to a small pond by the Crossroads. Bending over, she scrubs her hands vigorously in the water, imagining washing blood off of them. But the blood won’t come off, will it? She has killed to spare herself now, and she is stained crimson.

Still, Lily keeps scrubbing, and then she removes the wrappings from her hands and continues scrubbing, trying to get at the dirt under her nails and the blood she knows has to be congealed there, because she can’t stop oh G-d she can’t stop because she has to get clean she has to she has to she has to –

“Hey, Kid, you doing alright?” Varric’s voice is like an electric shock, jolting her and startling her so hard that she falls face first into the water. She hears alarmed shouts, but they’re muffled underwater, and she wishes she could stay under the surface forever.

Then a strong hand grips her arm and hauls her out of the water, and Lily, water dripping off of her face and hair plastered to her head, is face to face with a furious Cassandra.

“What were you thinking?!” The Seeker cries out, furious and terrified all at once. “Why did you not come up? The water is shallow, why did you remain under the water?” Lily opens and closes her mouth but no words come out, and she’s shaking again but this time it’s because Cassandra’s hand is still on her arm and Lily doesn’t want to be touched, it makes her skin crawl and her stomach go cold and she can’t communicate this to Cassandra because she can’t talk –

And then Cassandra grabs Lily’s other arm and takes a breath, only to be cut off by what is best described as a scream.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Lily wrenches her arms out of Cassandra’s grip and falls back into the water, this time getting up immediately and running. She knows that she will not get far before some Inquisition scout stops her, but she needs to get away from all those people, she needs to be able to breathe and she can’t do that in the crowd, she can’t she can’t she can’t.

She’s crying, and realizes it only when she can taste salt on her lips. G-d, but she’s killed people whom no one else sees as people, and they want to celebrate for it and Lily understands that the mages were not innocent, she knows that if she hadn’t killed them they’d still be making life dangerous and difficult for the refugees, but she cannot celebrate killing people who have only just begun to taste freedom for the first time. She can’t do it, and she won’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was a break from my usual writing style. I suppose I just wanted to explore how killing someone would make Lily feel, especially when she's so pro-mage. Also, two chapters in two days? Whaaaaaaaat. I just finished my seventh playthrough of Origins and I'm feeling inspired. Also, Lily's mention of a tic will be greatly embellished upon later on.


	8. Foxes and Ravens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Lily's breakdown.

The worst thing, Lily thinks, is the stillness.

It isn’t completely still; wild places never are. Leaves and grasses are rustled in a quiet, rushing sigh. The chirping of birds and insects alike blends into the background, along with the bubbling sound of a nearby creek. The sun is setting, turning far off fields of wheat into gold. It is a pity, Lily thinks. You cannot eat gold.

Lily is alone with her thoughts, and that has never been a good thing when she is sad. Or, to be frank, when she is happy. Lily is a melancholy creature, and after a demonstration of how her kin are not considered to be people, her heart feels heavy in her breast.

It was foolish, she supposes, to expect anything else. She has heard characters she counted as friends dehumanize mages; why would a group of desperate people, who have been fed Chantry rhetoric all their lives and are looking desperately for someone to blame for their refugee status, consider mages being anything but the reason for their suffering?

Lily knew that would happen. Lily has seen this world through a screen, and she should have known what to expect. But that is the essence of the problem, is it not? Lily has seen this world through a screen. She is not prepared to live in it.

A chirrup startles Lily out of her thoughts. Looking to her left, she sees a fennec sniffing the grass. She had been still for so long, she supposes, that the little creature lost its fear of her. Lily stares at the fox, at its large ears and dark eyes and striped, bushy tail, and envies it, desperately. A fox will never find itself lost in a world it fears. A fox will always be resourceful; will always be content with rooting in grass and sniffing out mice and voles to eat. A fox will always be quick, so as to outrun larger animals with pointier teeth; a fox will always be clever, and sharp, and warm within its fur coat.

Lily thinks, then, that she would very much like to be a fox, to be able to scurry, unnoticed, through the underbrush. She would like to root for berries and splash in the stream she can hear nearby. She would like to have four paws, to see the world from below and smell it with a new nose; to blend in with the foliage, and chatter with the other foxes.

Lily sits up straight. This wish would have been unreasonable in her world, but in Thedas, it is not. In Thedas, there are mages. In Thedas, there is magic. In Thedas, there are forgotten corners of the world where Chasindfolk and Dalish dwell and practice magic that lets them see the world in new shapes. If they can learn it, Lily reasons, why can’t she?

She could do it. She could absolutely do it, Lily thinks, growing more excited. She could focus on the fennecs in the area. She could learn how they behave and observe them to see their individual quirks. She could learn what it is to be a fox, and she could will herself into the form of one and – and then what? Run away?

Lily sits up abruptly, furious with herself. She is not weak. She is scared, and anxious, and so very, very angry, but she will not allow herself weakness. Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen and Josephine all think she is the Herald of Andraste, and while Lily know that title is false, it also grants her power.

Lily will not run. She will stay, and consolidate the Inquisition’s power, and when she is made Inquisitor, she will lead, and inspire trust and hope and she will burn the Circles to the ground if need be, but she will free her people.

Lily will be Inquisitor, and she will not hide. She will fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I've been having awful writer's block and I wanted to post at least SOMETHING for you guys, y'know?


	9. Mother's Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily pauses her survey when she hears footsteps approaching the door. There’s a squeak of hinges, and she when she looks up to see her mother, it feels as if her heart is being squeezed into bits. Her mother looks just the same as the last time Lily saw her – green eyes with long, dark lashes, a dusting of freckles covering her face, and bright, undyed, vibrant red hair that is the envy of all her mother’s friends. Her face has a kind, lovely smile on it, and she walks into Lily’s room and sits down on the foot of her bed.

The worst part, Lily thinks, is how real it was.

She falls asleep under the large oak in the Hinterlands. When she wakes up, she’s in her own bed, with purple polka-dot sheets and a purple blanket. She sits up straight and looks around her room. A full bookshelf, with some books stacked sideways in front of the first layer to save room, and books in stacks surrounding the bottom of it. There’s a crate full of stuffed animals, and her dresser has her jewelry box and necklace hanger on top of it. There’s a growth chart drawn on the wall, and a star chart next to a poster of Loki. Quotes on post-it notes litter the opposite walls, next to posters of Hogsmeade and Gallifrey, a poster of reaching hands with the caption “Black Lives Matter,” and a drawing she made last year, of someone painting cuts on their arm with a brush. The caricature from her brother’s Bar Mitzvah is hanging on the wall, her corkboard hangs above her bed, on which pictures of her and her friends, her parents, her brother’s graduation from high school, and comic strips are pinned. It is completely and totally her room, no detail missing, nothing out of place.

Lily pauses her survey when she hears footsteps approaching the door. There’s a squeak of hinges, and she when she looks up to see her mother, it feels as if her heart is being squeezed into bits. Her mother looks just the same as the last time Lily saw her – green eyes with long, dark lashes, a dusting of freckles covering her face, and bright, undyed, vibrant red hair that is the envy of all her mother’s friends. Her face has a kind, lovely smile on it, and she walks into Lily’s room and sits down on the foot of her bed.

“Good morning, honey.” She says, and her voice, so like Lily’s own, causes grief to well up in Lily’s throat. The dream she’d had had felt so real, like she had gone over a week not knowing where her mother was, and Lily wants to cry but instead flings herself into her mother’s arms.

“Oh, baby,” Her mother says softly, “nightmares again?” Lily nods, not trusting her voice, just clings to her mother and inhales the familiar scent of her soap and shampoo, smelling like cinnamon. Her mother lightly strokes her back, rubbing soothing circles and whispering to her that it’s okay, she’s safe now, and tears well up in Lily’s eyes because yes, she’s safe, her mother is with her and everything is okay.

After a few minutes of crying onto her mother’s shoulder, Lily lets out a shuddering breath and looks up. Her mother looks back at her, eyes full of understanding, knowing how often Lily’s dreams bother her and not prying at all. Lily gives her a weak smile, but then freezes. Her mother is a redhead. She doesn’t have dark eyelashes.

“Mama?” Lily asks, voice quavering. “Why are you wearing mascara?” Lily’s mom frowns. “I’m not, sweetheart.” She says and Lily blinks and her mother’s lashes are now the proper color, fair and just the barest bit red, but that doesn’t make sense. Lily swears they were black a moment ago. Frowning, Lily looks around again, and her gaze lands on Sealie, the stuffed seal she’s had since she was a tiny girl and – oh. 

Lily can’t stand the feel of velvet. She also can’t stand the feeling of paper towels, or rough napkins, or rugs against her bare feet. She hates sudden bright lights and when people talk too loudly and when people touch her when she isn’t expecting it and she’s uncomfortable making eye contact. But although some of those things Lily can tolerate more than others, she has never been able to stand the feel of velvet, which is why Sealie’s velvety nose had been rubbed off, so that there’s only black plastic in its place. But when Lily reaches for Sealie, she looks at the tip of her face and sees velvet material covering the nose that should be smooth and shiny. She realizes what’s happening, but she could be wrong, wants desperately to be wrong, but when she looks at her mother, her expression is resigned.  
“You’re not my mom, are you.” It isn’t a question, and the being impersonating her mother tilts its head, before smiling.

“Clever girl.” it says, and Lily refuses to cry. “You miss her so terribly, don’t you? Your mother, your father, your brother, even your little dog, you miss them so much that it aches.” The smile it wears turns sharp. Lily clenches her jaw. “I can send you back to them, you know. There was a way for you to come here, and so there must be a way to send you back, and I can give that to you.”

It can’t. Lily knows this, but the longing comes to her unbidden, and she wants to believe that the being can, wants to believe that she’ll see her family again. But if there’s a way back to them, it won’t be found with this. She knows what she has to do, but she can’t just yet. Lily schools her face, makes her expression one of consideration, and then nods, sharply. “I believe you. But before I agree, please, may I see your real form? Talking to someone who isn’t my mother but wears her face is…disconcerting.” The being looks at her, and suddenly Lily’s mother is gone, replaced by a horned, purple figure with slit-eyed pupils.

“Well then, sweet girl,” It says, but never finishes because Lily wills her fury into fire and the demon screams in agony as it is consumed by flame. Lily holds the spell for thirty seconds, a minute, and then lets it dissipate. There is nothing left where the desire demon once was. Lily breathes deeply, and considers allowing herself to cry, when a voice startles her.

“Herald.”

She knows it’s Solas before she turns around (honestly, with the amount of time she had played this game she could name every character by hearing them say one word alone), and she nods at him. He gives her a searching look, before looking at the sparks still drifting in the air. "Why did you wait so long to kill it?"

Lily swallows, hard, before answering. "It - it was wearing my mother's face." She says quietly. "I knew it wasn't her but - I couldn't hurt it when it was wearing her face."

Solas remains silent, but his expression turns sympathetic, before he speaks again.

“The Seeker is quite worried in regards to your welfare. When we awaken, you should prepare yourself for a great many questions.” Solas raises his hand, and Lily’s bedroom begins to fade around her, when she cries out “Wait!”

Solas pauses, and looks at her. Lily draws the false Sealie to her breast and hugs it, being careful to avoid touching the nose. Then she looks at Solas, and nods, and her dream dissolves into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the absence, guys! This chapter is pretty much just exposition, but I promise in the next one we'll get back to action. Thank you so much to everyone who has left reviews, they make my day.


	10. Since I've been gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So here's why I've been gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of suicide, anxiety and depression.

Hi!

So, two weeks ago I graduated from a residential therapy program that helped treat my severe anxiety and depression. It was three months long, and before I went I was kind of a mess. It worked great - guess who doesn't want to die anymore!- but I'm still getting used to being home - I can be in a room without other people now! - but I haven't forgotten about this story. In fact, I've been rereading it, and I think I want to rewrite it to have the plotline be more established. Whadday'all think? 

xoxo,

Lily


	11. Update

Alright darlings, guess who's back.

Three months of residential treatment, five months of attending a school meant for kids with mental health issues, six months of therapy bi-weekly, and I'm _back. _This story is going to be rewritten, and it is going to have love, sweat and tears poured into it because I have those to spare. I am going to write longer chapters, I am going to set multiple alarms per week so I remember to write, and I am going to have a hell of a lot of fun.__

__Let's fucking do this._ _


	12. Brought Down by Them

Okay guys, the first chapter of _Fakakta's_ rewrite, _Brought Down by Them,_ is finally up! No clue how to embed links, but it's here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593998/chapters/38888594

and on my page.

If you like _Fakakta,_ don't worry, it's essentially going to be the same story, just...better, hopefully.

Thank you so much to everyone who has read this. I started this story at one of the lowest points of my life, and a great number of you were extremely supportive. I'm glad that I'm going to be able to continue it when I'm better.

xoxo,

-Lily


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